Good News

[A follow-up to An Unfamiliar, Scary Place]

When I walked onto the grounds of the residential facility, I saw Ethan* far in the distance, in between the trees, swinging a stick back and forth.  The reports I had been getting from his therapist the past two weeks were that he had been failing in school and leaving the building every afternoon, decidedly unwilling to complete any of his assignments.  His therapist also said he has the lowest self esteem of any of the kids she is working with.

I met Ethan’s therapist on the walk into the nearest cottage.  After ten minutes, Chris and Cat* joined us.  We hugged, excited for what the day meant.  We sat down, swapping stories from the afternoon.  I pulled out my folder and took out a single paper, “Intent to Adopt” written at the top. 
They signed the form and pictures were taken.  Today was the day they were meeting Ethan, their future son.

Keeping a previous promise that I would be with Ethan when he met a family, I caught up with him across the lawn and asked how he was doing.  “Nervous,” he said.  I felt his anxiety, knowing there was no other way to go into this.  I referred to the first time he met this couple.  They were bowling, and afterwards Ethan told me how much he loved meeting them.  Apparently Chris and Cat loved meeting him too because after the mounds of information we bombarded them with, articulately Ethan’s needs and behaviors, this family said, “He is our son.” 

Together, we walked around the campus, played two v. two basketball, and looked at a picture book Chris and Cat had put together about their lives.  Chris and Cat were wonderfully talkative and easy-going, and Ethan enjoyed the attention and show-and-tell.  Though the encounter seemed normal and relaxed, the immensity of the moment was palpable.  

After goodbyes with Chris and Cat, I walked back to Ethan’s cottage to hear his thoughts about the visit.  As it turns out, he could not think of one thing he did not like about them.  They were “AWESOME!”  But Ethan was also nervous – about having to talk to them about his past, about doing something that would cause them to not want him, about trusting a family to love him.

He only had one question.  “Why did they pick me?”

I knew I couldn’t remark on his character.  That wasn’t really the answer.  “I don’t know,” was my initial reply.  In a moment of clarity, “Do you believe in God?” I asked back.

“Yeah.”

“Well they believe in God too.  And they believe that God meant you to be their son.”

He smiled.  “They said ‘son’?

“Yeah, they did.”  We sat with a long pause. 

“Do you believe God loves you no matter what you do and what is in your past?”

“Yeah.”

“Parents are kind of like that.  They love you no matter what you do.  Not all parents, I know, but these parents are.” 

I spent the three-hour drive home trying to step into Ethan’s shoes and imagine what he might be feeling.  I talked on the phone with Chris and Cat, debriefing the day and processing what lay ahead for their family**.  And when I sat in the silence of the drive, I thought how amazing it is that Ethan is getting to glimpse the Father’s love for him through parents.  And as it is for all of us trying to understand God’s unfailing love, it will be a long journey.***

*Names are changed. 

**What’s next? Ethan will have time to talk on the phone with Chris and Cat each day.  They will participate in family therapy once a week, and Chris and Cat will have weekly visits with Ethan at the residential facility.  Soon they will have off-campus visits and Ethan will visit their home.  Our hope is to have Ethan spend Thanksgiving and Christmas vacations at Chris and Cats, and do a full transition during the winter/spring semester.  There is no manual – we are just waiting to see how Ethan progresses these next few months.

***Prayers appreciated.